


Witten in the Stars

by elrondofrivendell



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Warning- mild alcohol use, little to no angst, other than that fairly harmless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrondofrivendell/pseuds/elrondofrivendell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A relatively fluffy exploration of Bard and Thranduil’s relationship after Botfa.  Thranduil returns to Dale to assist in the rebuilding during which time their already strong friendship grows into something more.  Thranduil and Bard imbibe copious amounts of Dorwinian wine at the return party and end up sleeping in Thranduil's tent together.  After Tilda finds out any cover they might have had is blown and they easily fall into the routine of eating dinners together after a hard day's work in Dale and spending lazy evenings in Thranduil's tent.  Once Dale is in good shape Bard and the Bardlings take a vacation to Mirkwood where they enjoy the recreation the realm has to offer and of course a party worthy of its king.  Then Thranduil takes Bard on a long camping trip through the forest and surprises him by ending up back in Dale where his children and citizens are awaiting him to take his crown at the surprise coronation ceremony Thranduil arranged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witten in the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Barduil Big Bang- 2015. Thank you to everyone involved in making it happen! Check out Hannibalsketches' super cute art for the fic over on Tumblr! http://hannibalsketches.tumblr.com/post/117631449667/final-barduil-bang-post-this-is-for-the-magical

Bard stretched as he stepped out of his door onto the streets of Dale. It was a cold but sunny March afternoon that hinted at the promise of spring. It had been a harsh winter and Bard was happy that it was finally beginning to melt away. Much had taken place after the battle in the city a few months ago, but life was beginning to return to normal and Dale was beginning to look like a true city again, though still just a shadow of its former glory. Bard looked around at all the work that still needed to be done and sighed. King Thranduil of Mirkwood had promised to return to assist in the rebuilding and he was supposed to arrive today, but Bard had heard nothing about a host of elves arriving yet. In the aftermath of the battle Thranduil had actually helped Bard lay out plans for the work that needed to be done. Which was a relief because Bard, though resourceful, knew next to nothing about designing anything other than an emergency shelter. Which was why he was beginning to worry that said elf with a plan wasn't there yet. 

Bard figured a walk around the city would do him good and the crisp air might soothe his nerves. It wasn't that he was worried about Thranduil, well not too much. Bard was well aware of the elf's capabilities and knew that he could take care of himself outnumbered 10-to-1 in the midst of battle so a trip from Mirkwood to Dale should be a walk in the park even if the spiders interrupt. Thranduil was just probably taking his time. It was Dale that Bard was worried about. Leading his family he could do. He was good at that and it felt natural, but leading an entire city of people who looked up to him to be their unwavering king...well it was just stressful. His people were patient, more-so than he felt he deserved, but they were living in these ruins with slabs of canvas and deerskin covering the drafty windows and boughs of evergreen patching the many holes in the roofs. The guilt that Bard felt for keeping them living like that was immense and it pressed down on his chest every time he talked to them. “Just a little while longer.” He would tell them, thought they had only said good morning. “The new market will be a sight to see.” He would tell the butcher who had just handed him his weekly venison. To be honest it's possible his people were more worried about him than he was about them with the way he had been pacing around the city fretting. 

Bard turned a corner near the edge of town completely lost in thought and came to a dead halt. Spread out in front of him at the end of the street were dozens of tents and at least 100 elves milling about unpacking wagons. “What the...” Bard rushed into to the gatehouse on the right side of the street. The guard was passed out on the dirt floor snoring loudly with an empty bottle in his hand. Bard had meant well hiring the town drunk to be a guard. He had figured that maybe some responsibility would sober him up, but clearly that had not been the case. Well, it wasn't the first time an elvish host had slipped into his city unnoticed. Bard sighed heavily and made his way towards the makeshift elf village.

Thranduil was untacking his elk next to a large tent Bard assumed must be his when Bard approached. “King Thranduil.”

Thranduil spun around. “My dear Bard.” He set his saddle down and embraced the man. 

“How was your journey?” Bard smiled at him when they broke apart.

“Pleasant. Come, I brought presents.” Thranduil wasted no time before dragging Bard behind the tent where wagon upon wagon filled with food and various stores sat. 

Bard was a bit awestruck at the extensiveness of the aid he had brought. “Thranduil, this is too much! We don't need all of this!” 

“Nonsense. You are my friend and I'd look after your people as my own. It's my business if I want to spoil them.” Thranduil said huffily.

“Well then you are the best friend I have ever had.” Bard looked a little teary eyed, but Thranduil wasn't paying any attention. 

“Come inside, I've brought presents for you as well.” He led Bard inside his tent where an entire corner was filled from floor to ceiling with crates. He pulled them down one by one and unpacked the treasures inside, taking great delight in explaining each one to Bard as he handed his gifts over. 

In many of the crates were pieces of furniture made with the best materials available and by the most skilled elves in Mirkwood Thranduil told him with pride. They were all made of wood, beautifully carved, and sturdy. Bard's favorites were three chairs shaped like small thrones that had been Legolas's when he was younger. 

“I thought your children might like to have thrones like yours.” Thranduil looked thoughtfully at the little thrones. 

“They're going to love them! They can sit next to me in court. Well once I have a throne that is...” Bard frowned. “I figured Girion's would still be there, but it's not.” 

“Ah, yes. I rather figured that might have been destroyed when Smaug claimed the mountain. That's why I had this made!” Thranduil walked over to the remaining crates in the corner and dramatically tugged a velvet blanket off what Bard had thought to have been several crates to reveal a gorgeous throne. It was huge, made of white marbled stone, and accented with luxurious red velvet cushioning.

“To match your robe.” Thranduil gestured to the robe Bard was wearing when he saw Bard admiring the cushions. It was the same robe Thranduil had given him when they had become allies, one out of Thranduil's own collection. 

Bard was speechless. He stared at the throne, mouth parted in disbelief that this was supposed to be his and even more-so that Thranduil had been so thoughtful to have it made for him. He was not accustomed to such enormous gifts. In fact he wasn't accustomed to gifts of any kind except bouquets of wildflowers that his children brought him occasionally and small trinkets his wife had bought for him on his birthdays. 

“Well aren't you going to try it out? Do you not like it?” Thranduil pouted slightly pretending that his feeling were hurt, but of course he knew that Bard liked it- Thranduil knew that he had excellent taste. 

Bard finally found his voice. “I love it! Thranduil, it's beautiful!” Bard walked over and lowered himself down onto the plush cushioned seat. Thranduil gave a small 'humph' and grinned, very pleased with himself. 

“I had it modeled after Girion's throne. I visited Dale in the days when he was king and I remember his throne well. It had few rivals in beauty.” 

“Thranduil...how can I ever thank you? I have not the means to give you a gift so grand in return.”

Bard's guilt was creeping up again in the light of being spoiled so heartily. The provisions for his city were one thing, but all of these unnecessary luxuries Thranduil was dumping on him...he just has a hard time accepting them.

“That is why it is a gift, Bard.” Thranduil smirked down at him. 

Bard looked up and saw the sparkle in Thranduil's eyes and it put him at ease. How lucky he was to have such a friend... Overcome with gratitude Bard leapt up and pulled Thranduil into a tight embrace. 

“Thank you.” He whispered into his ear. 

“You are welcome.” Thranduil hugged him tightly and then Bard did feel very lucky indeed to have gained such close companionship with the elf that he could feel his warm broad chest against his own. As he broke away from the hug Bard pressed a kiss to Thranduil's cheek- a last gesture of his gratitude for the gifts. He was utterly surprised when he felt Thranduil's hands grab his face and press their lips together firmly. 

“If you are going to thank someone with a kiss you should learn to do so properly.” Thranduil drawled when he finally let go of Bard.

Bard blushed furiously as he processed what had just happened. He took a breath in an attempt to regain his composure, but all he could think about was how much he wished Thranduil would kiss him again. 

“Well now that I'm aware that it's an acceptable practice I'll have to find more things to thank you for.” Bard said as he eyed Thranduil with a glint in his eyes. 

Thranduil smirked, obviously pleased with the reaction he had received from Bard and even more-so pleased at the prospect of kissing the Dragonslayer again. But it wouldn't be befitting for a king such as himself to give it to temptation so easily so instead he called in some of his elves to pack up the crates and transport them to Bard's house. Bard went with them, but not before accepting Thranduil's invitation for wine and music at a party in the elf village tonight. At first he had protested “How could you possibly throw a party tonight? You just got here!”, but Thranduil had told Bard not to have so little faith so Bard had left with the promise to return with his family in a few hours. 

Bard walked back to his house in a happy daze. The renovations on Dale would soon begin, the Elf-king of Mirkwood had brought presents for his people and family, and that same gorgeous blonde Elf-king had definitely kissed him. Bard felt like a love-struck teenager, except that his own teenage years had been filled with a lot more barges and fish than love interests. As he walked he mused on what he knew of Elvish courting which admittedly was very little. The only piece of information he had on the matter was that he had heard of elves forming close friendships in which they would act extremely affectionate despite their usually formal countenance. And certainly he and Thranduil were very close. 

It hadn't taken long after meeting the elf for Bard to feel kinship with him. Their allegiance in battle had been steadfast, but it was in the aftermath of the battle that their bond had deepened into something unspoken. Together they took on the heavy task of gathering their fallen and laying them to rest. It was easy to see that Thranduil's heart was heavy with grief and all the life and power he had demonstrated in battle seemed to be replaced by cold misery. For every fallen elf Thranduil had shed a tear and after he had laid the last elf in the ground and when he thought that no one was looking he had broken down on the edge of the forest sobbing at his great loss. But Bard had been there, walking along the treeline not far off, and when he heard Thranduil crying he had walked over and sat down next to him and stroked his hair until he fell silent in Bard's arms. It was then that Bard knew that their bond was special, something beyond friendship, but yet undefined. They were never very far from each other after that in the last days of cleaning up the aftermath until Thranduil had to bring his people home and return to his realm. He had promised to come back to Dale as soon as possible to aid in the rebuilding and he had made good on that promise being that it was only a few weeks hence his departure. 

Bard was pulled out of his thoughts by Tilda tackling him practically to the ground. He looked around to realize that he had arrived in front of his house- a large yet simple home in the center of the town that had been Girion's many years ago. 

“Da, the elves are here!” Tilda shrieked, eyes wide as she watched them carry the crates in through their door.  
“Yes, sweetheart.” Bard hugged his youngest daughter as she squeezed his waist in excitement.

“When can we see them?” 

“Tonight, darling. King Thranduil says he's throwing a party and he'd be very happy if you would come.” 

Tilda practically melted, she loved the elves. Sigrid and Bain had stepped out of the door in between the entering and exiting elves. 

“Is Tauriel here, da?' Sigrid looked hopeful. 

Bard thought a minute and thought that he remembered seeing a flash of red hair among the elves when he had first walked into their camp. “Yes, I believe she is. I'm sure you'll see her at the party tonight.” Bard now addressed all of his children as he ushered them towards the open door, “Come inside now, you have lots of presents to open before the party and you have to get cleaned up as well.” 

~ ~ ~ 

The living room was destroyed. Empty crates, straw, and presents were strewn everywhere. The children had practically shrieked when they had opened the crates containing their little thrones. They had all also received new formal outfits of elvish make, which Bard had sent them upstairs to change into after they got ready. There were also toys, pots and pans, figurines, books, and a host of other household trinkets lying on every surface of the living room. 

Bard looked around in half amazement and half dismay at the mess. It was really all too much. Bard half wondered if Thranduil was just trying to clean out his own storage by handing things down to Bard. After opening a crate full of Legolas's old toy bows he decided that that was exactly what Thranduil was doing. Not that he minded, his home and all its possessions had been destroyed in the fire after all, and they hadn't had very much to begin with. Plus there were enough new custom-made-for-Bard-and-his-family gifts that Bard knew that Thranduil only had the best intentions in mind by passing down his things. 

Bard finally came to the last unopened box and found a note affixed to it: 

To Bard,  
You look more like a king in your tattered garb than many who have ruled for ages, but should you find a desire for tradition I hope that these will suit you.  
Thranduil Orophereon

Bard removed the lid to reveal a plush blue velvet cape trimmed with white fur at the top of the crate. He pulled it out and held in up in appreciation. It was certainly fit for a king, but even though it was of simple design it still might take some prodding to get Bard to wear such a majestic garment. He set it aside and peered down into the crate again which he could now see was filled with robes, capes, jewels, and crowns. He could tell Thranduil had them made specially for him because they were all far simpler than those that Thranduil preferred. Even the crowns were simple- of elvish make, but with a decidedly human styling to them. The last robe in the crate was Bard's favorite. It was a rich brown suede and almost floor-length with gold trim and a belt. He took that and a simple gold ring and hair barrette and went upstairs to dress for the party and check on his children's progress. Tonight had to promise to be one fine party. 

~ ~ ~ 

Bard had finally ushered his children out of the house just as the sun was setting. Tilda and Sigrid skipped ahead of him clad in their new cloaks while Bain walked next to him also in a new cloak as they set out towards the elf-village by the last light of the day. 

They turned the street corner and saw the village spread out before them, impressive considering the elves had only just arrived a few hours earlier. Fires were roaring in rings between the tents and tiny sparking lights gleamed over the entire village as though the elves had invited every firefly in Middle-earth to the party. 

Bard gathered his children around him and took a knee. “I want you all to have fun tonight, but don't go running off anywhere without me, alright?” He had barley finished speaking when Tilda sprinted off don the down the street. 

“Hey, Tilda!” Bard cried after her rather indignantly. He scrambled to his feet and took off after her only to come to a halt when he saw what she had run off towards. Tilda was standing perfectly still in front of Thranduil, who was dressed in his finest with a crown of spruce and small white flowers upon his head. Her mouth was slightly agape as she stared up at him. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.” 

Thranduil paused, looking down at Tilda. Then a smile broke out over his face and he stooped down to pick Tilda up (who was thrilled about this) and carried her in his arms over to where Bard had been watching the exchange. 

“You always speak very well of your children Bard, but they are far sweeter than any words could have described.” Thranduil was still smiling and Tilda was giggling in his arms. 

“You never said how pretty he was, da..”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at him. “Really, Bard? I'm hurt.” He feigned a pout before turning to Bain and Sigrid. “What's say we all take a look around?” They nodded fervently and followed him and Bard was left half-jogging to catch up as they entered the village. 

Bard had no idea how Thranduil had pulled off such a magnificent party in only a few hours, but it was just one of those things about Thranduil. Magnificence seemed to follow him around wherever he went; his mere presence seemed to have a light all its own. 

Thranduil had led his children over to one of the fire pits where various foods were roasting. The children all picked a bit of everything to fill their wooden bowls and sat down on the little tree stumps surrounding the fire. Bard plucked a drumstick from the fire and took a seat next to Thranduil. Music played loudly around them. Many of the elves played harps or woodwind instruments and the remainder of the elves sang and danced around the fires. Some of the citizens of Dale (who had all been invited of course) hesitantly joined in only to be taken by the hand and spun around by joyful elves. In short time both elf and human were having a grand time and Bard himself was feeling full and happy. 

“Da, can we dance with the elves?” Sigrid had stood up and was giving Bard a pleading look. 

“Aye, you may.” 

Sigrid grabbed her siblings' hands and pulled them to their feet, but before they could run off Thranduil raided a hand to stop them. “Before you go you should know that Tauriel will be returning from patrol in an hour.” His mouth held a slight smirk and he beckoned Feren over. “Feren will show you to her tent when you are done dancing if you would like to hide and surprise her.” The children giggled and thanked Thranduil before running off to dance with an annoyed looking Feren in tow. 

“I never thought you one for pranks, Thranduil.” Bard smirked at him. 

“One does not live many ages without learning to have a little fun.” Thranduil nonchalantly sipped his wine.

“Only a little.” Bard mocked him, squeezing his forefinger and thumb together. 

Thranduil glared at him. “And what would the famous doomsday prophesizer of Laketown know of fun?”

“Oh come on, that was only once! And in my defense I was right about all those fish dying.” 

Bard looked so serious Thranduil couldn't help but laugh. “Have a drink with me, Bard the fun-slayer.” Thranduil handed him a glass of wine, eyes filled with mirth. Bard snatched it out of his hand and threw it back in one large gulp. 

“I'll show you how much fun I can be.” Bard grumbled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Another.”

A greatly amused Thranduil refilled his cup and Bard threw it back again. “That is Dorwinian wine, my friend. You may consider slowing your pace if you wish to remain on your feet tonight.”

Bard glanced down into the empty cup with a bit of instant regret, but then his face broke out into a devious grin. He was already feeling the wine's warmth spreading throughout his body. “If I'm doomed to make a fool out of myself tonight then I'm taking you with me.” 

“Kings do not make fools out of themselves.” Thranduil adopted a snooty above-it-all expression which was a complete lie considering the fact that he was not at all above getting completely wasted and did so rather frequently at Mirkwood parties. 

Bard leaned in very close to Thranduil and whispered in his ear. “Tonight, this king will.” He nipped at Thranduil's ear playfully before pulling away with an incredibly smug expression. Thranduil exhaled loudly at Bard's flirtation and his cheeks took on a slight pink tinge. 

“If I'd have known that wine made you frisky I would have offered it to you more frequently.” 

“And I would have accepted.” Bard's voice husky from his wine-induced moment of lust. “But tonight we celebrate.” Bard gathered himself, pushing away his urge to pull Thranduil into a suffocating kiss. Bard reached for the bottle of wine between them and poured two cups. “Drink with me, Thranduil. Let's go cup for cup til the end of the bottle.”

“Humph. If you think you can keep up with me bowman, you are mistaken. But nonetheless it will be amusing to see you try.” 

They clinked cups before downing their drinks. Cup after cup the drank, eyes locked on one another in competition. After several cups, Bard was finding it difficult to feel his face and paused in a bit of panic. 

“What is it?” Thranduil looked at him with concern.

“I can't feel my face...” Bard slapped and poked at his cheeks looking rather silly. 

Thranduil gave a soft chuckle. “Not to worry, my dear Bard. There is no true harm that Dorwinian wine can bring to you save a hangover the next morning. We elves are more clever in the making of spirits than men.” 

“Well it helps that you use magic...” Bard grumbled, but felt relieved and his determination was renewed and they resumed their competition.

When there was only a little wine left in the bottle they decided to finish it with a swig each. Thranduil drank first and sloshed the bottle back with a little too much flourish and wine dribbled down his chin and onto his robes. Bard fell off his stump laughing as Thranduil tried to wipe the wine from his chin. 

“Shh, Bard. I'm not drunk!” Even as he said it, Thranduil knew hat it was a dirty lie. He felt warm and giggly and just for one night he thought that it might be alright to throw kingly dignity and pride to the wind. After all, he was among friends and a sudden thought occurred to him that perhaps the party was loud enough that those blasted dwarves in Erebor could hear it. That was all the motivation Thranduil needed to pull Bard off the ground, almost knocking them both down as he did so, and stumble over to the neighboring fire pit where a huge dance circle was skipping around the fire. 

They were far too drunk to dance properly so they slung their arms around each others waists and the waists of the elves to either side for support and skipped as best they could around the circle. Bard couldn't stop giggling and he kept bumping into Thranduil which caused the elf to bump back into him and they almost fell over a good many times. 

A lively elvish song was being sung that Thranduil seemed to know the words to and he belted them out as the elves clapped around him and sang along. They clearly didn't seem surprised at Thranduil's behavior, but Bard would have been in near shock if he wasn't so in awe of Thranduil's melodious deep voice. 

Thranduil and Bard spun around the circle for several more songs before they broke off for a rest and promptly fell over. They tried to help each other up, but they just ended up slumped over each other snickering on the ground. Two kind and less drunk elves had to help them up and bore them off to Thranduil's tent where they were deposited on the lounge. Just as the helpful elves, Feren and another, were leaving the tent Bard called out to them. 

“Where are my children?” 

“Your children are with Tauriel, sire. I will alert her to your uh...present state. I am sure they are welcome to stay with her tonight.” Feren bowed and exited the tent. 

“I wouldn't worry about them, Bard. They'll be safe here with Tauriel. And further I doubt you could walk home yourself, much less escort three children.” Thranduil leaned back in the lounge after reassuring Bard. 

“Aye, you're probably right. They'll be alright. Probably having the time of their lives right now anyways. The only thing I have to fear is how I'll feel come morning.” Bard groaned. He'd certainly had a good time tonight, but a hangover was a miserable price to pay nonetheless and Bard was by no means a young man anymore. 

“Oh!” Thranduil exclaimed and practically launched himself unsteadily out of his seat and towards a trunk at the end of his bed. He came to a stop and stood teetering before collapsing down in front of it. He fumbled to unlatch it, but when he managed to he dug around and after a few seconds produced a blue vial. He removed the stopper and took a sip before slowly standing and making his way back over to Bard. “It's a good thing you reminded me. I would have forgotten to drink this before I fell asleep. It's a hangover cure from the elves of Lothlorien.” Thranduil offered it to him and Bard accepted. It tasted minty, though Bard couldn't discern any of the ingredients. But if their elves famous for their healing lands had made it then it was good enough for him. 

Thranduil sank to the floor in front of Bard and dropped his head sleepily against Bard's thigh. Bard took a moment to stroke his silky hair, eliciting a contented murmur from Thranduil before deciding that however nice this was Thranduil really had no business on the floor. “Here.” Bard offered him a hand. “Let me help you to bed. It'd do you no good to fall asleep on the floor.” 

“I wasn't going to fall asleep on the floor. I was going to fall asleep on you.” Thranduil complained, but let Bard pull him up. Bard hooked an arm around Thranduil and stumbled over to his bed just managing to let Thranduil down gently before collapsing on top of his legs at the foot of the bed. Thranduil managed to shrug off his cape and robe leaving him in leggings and a soft tunic before slipping his body under the silky blankets. “Will you stay with me, Bard?”

“Here? Wouldn't that be suspicious?” 

“Why would it be? It's not uncommon for close friends among elves to share a bed. It would raise no questions from my people- yours I cannot speak for.” 

The custom that Thranduil spoke of was not necessarily present in human customs, but it was so late and Bard was so warm and sleepy. The idea of sidling up next to Thranduil and falling asleep was very enticing and frankly it was none of his people's business where Bard spent his nights. 

“Are we not friends, Dragonslayer?” Thranduil was pouting at him.

“Aye, we are. The closest.” Bard smiled at him and threw off his robe and boots and lay down besides Thranduil under the covers. He heard Thranduil give a contented little sigh and leaned his head on Bard's shoulder. Bard leaned his head back against Thranduil's and closed his eyes. He didn't think he had ever been so comfortable in his life, which was probably very true since Bard had never had the means to purchase a bed anywhere near as luxurious as the elf-king's. 

Thranduil had already drifted off to sleep. Bard could hear his even breathing and see his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm against his own. He had one last thought of how lucky he was before sleep overtook him and he had no more thoughts until morning. 

~ ~ ~ 

By the time Bard woke he could see sunlight against the canvas walls of the tent. He rubbed his eyes and wondered what time it was. He wasn't in the habit of sleeping in so it was a strange feeling to be awake after the sun had already risen. Thranduil mumbled next to him and buried his face in Bard's chest, clearly unhappy that his sleep had been interrupted by Bard's movement. 

“Thranduil...it's time to get up.” Bard said this as softly as he could and patted Thranduil's shoulder gently. 

“I will get up when I am no longer comfortable. Leave me alone.” 

Clearly Thranduil was not a morning person. Bard tried to slip out of bed without disturbing him thinking that perhaps a hot cup of coffee could persuade his elf to be less grumpy, but a hand around Bard's waist pulled him back down firmly. 

“Where do you think you are going? You're the reason that I'm comfortable. Stay.” 

Bard chuckled at the command and settled back into bed. There was no point in arguing with the grumpy king, especially when he was being so cute. Thranduil sighed contentedly and placed a kiss upon Bard's chest. In return Bard kissed the top of his head and pulled him in to hold him closer while he slept. Thranduil drifted off back to sleep for a little bit, but Bard was more than awake and lay there with his eyes open until he spotted a small scroll on Thranduil's desk that he could reach without disturbing the elf too much. He unrolled it to reveal that it was an account of a famous battle and therefore didn't feel intrusive reading it while he waited for Thranduil to wake up. 

Bard hadn't gotten far into his reading of the scroll when Thranduil groaned and stretched, finally awake. “Did you get your beauty sleep, my lord?” 

“As if I need sleep for that.” Thranduil countered. Clearly he was fully awake now. 

Indeed you do not.” Bard leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips which Thranduil returned until they were making out lazily under the covers. 

“DA?!” Tilda's shriek came from the tent flap. Bard practically jumped out of his skin, almost knocking Thranduil right off the bed as he heard his youngest daughter's voice. 

“Tilda!” Bard caught one glimpse of her shocked face before she broke out into giggles. 

“I knew it...” She said more to herself than the other two and ran out of the tent. 

“Tilda, come back!” 

Thranduil's cheeks were a little red, but other than that he didn't appear too fazed. “Well perhaps that wasn't the most ideal way for her to find out about our relationship, but I have a feeling that she approves of it.” 

Bard hid his face, which was glowing bright red, in his hands and moaned. “And I have a feeling she's never going to let me live that down either.” 

“Children never do. When Legolas was a child I fell off my elk when I was still training him. For months afterwards every time Legolas saw me he would instantly fall to the ground and yell 'Aras, come back!' He would even do it when other Lords came to visit...he was a nightmare of a child.” Thranduil's expression didn't match his words however as he was smiling fondly at the memory. “They'll cause you constant grief, but you can't help but love them.” Thranduil toyed with one of his many rings on his finger. Bard noticed that it was different from all the rest of the beautiful rings that adorned Thranduil's hands. It was a band of silver, a little roughly cut, with a lopsided sapphire on top. “Legolas made this for me when he was first learning the craft. He was so proud... I haven't taken it off since the day he gave it to me.” Bard couldn't tell for certain, but he thought that Thranduil's eyes looked a little misty. 

“I keep something my children made for me too.” Bard reached over Thranduil to retrieve his robe from a chair next to the bed which he had flung it onto last night. He rummaged deep in one of the pockets and pulled out a locket on a thin chain. “It was my wife's.” He looked at it fondly. “After she passed my children commissioned a tiny portrait of her to put inside the locket and gave it to me. To this day I still don't know where they got the money for it, but I suspect old Mrs. Taldanak might have done it for them for free. She never could say no to little Sigrid and Bain.” Bard handed to locket over to Thranduil who took it and gently opened it. A sketch of a pretty face with light wavy hair stared back at him. She looked kind and strong and had a love in her eyes that reminded him of his own wife, though she had been taller and had had fair skin and sleek black hair. “She's beautiful.” Thranduil said earnestly as he handed the locket back over to Bard. “Aye, she was.” Bard took one more look before he closed the locket and tried to hide his sadness. 

“I'm sorry to have made you sad. I know your pain.” Thranduil brushed Bard' hair out of his face to see a tear slipping down his cheek. He kissed it away. “Let us talk of happier things.” 

Bard sighed. “Aye, alright. There's nothing for being sad I suppose.” Thranduil watched him gather himself back into his bowman, brave and full of life if not a bit sullen. 

“I'm starving, let's get breakfast.” Thranduil swung out of bed and walked over to his wardrobe, stretching as he went.

“Thranduil, it's past noon...”

“I haven't eaten yet, therefore it is breakfast.” Thranduil proceeded to ignore him and sifted through the many clothes inside his wardrobe. “What do you think of this?” He held up a dark mauve tunic for Bard to see. 

“I think you'd look lovely in that.” Bard replied honestly. 

Thranduil nodded and pulled out a pair of thick brown leggings from the bottom of the wardrobe and a dark brown robe trimmed in brown fur. He laid these down on a chair before turning to Bard. “What would you like to wear?”

“I...was just going to wear this...” Bard motioned to his current tunic and robe.

“No, you can't wear that. We have a lot of work to do today and I won't let you ruin your nice clothes.”

“Work?” Bard was thoroughly confused.

“Isn't that why I'm here?” Thranduil stood with his hand on his hip, sounding exasperated. “To assist you in rebuilding your kingdom? Honestly, Bard.”

“Are you sure that's the only reason you're here?” Bard smirked.

“Bard!” Thranduil snapped and threw a tunic at him. 

“Okay, okay.” Bard resigned his teasing and tossed off the tunic he was wearing and replaced it with the one Thranduil had thrown at him. Thranduil did the same, though he couldn't help but watch Bard change out of the corner of his eye. Then Thranduil pulled off his leggings, being careful not to reveal more than his legs as Bard was already staring at him with an appreciative glint in his eyes and Thranduil was rather set on getting a lot accomplished today. He pulled on the brown leggings he had picked out and handed Bard an identical pair, which Bard changed into. Thranduil let Bard pick a working robe to wear out of his wardrobe and they headed out of the tent to find Bard's children for breakfast. 

They found the children in the first place they looked which happened to be Tauriel's tent on the outskirts of camp. The tent flaps were pinned open to reveal Bard's three children and Tauriel sitting on the floor around a small fire in the middle of the tent. Tauriel was kneeling behind Sigrid and weaving her hair into an intricate elvish braid while Bain admired a finely crafted bow and Tilda tried on tunics that were far too large for her. Everyone turned to look as Bard and Thranduil ducked to enter the tent. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Sigrid chided with a smile.

“Yeah, sleepyhead.” Tilda giggled. 

Bain blushed, but refrained from comment and Tauriel just looked at them, clearly expecting one of them to say something instead of just standing there awkwardly. It was painfully obvious that Tilda had told everyone that she had seen her da kissing the king. 

“Aren't you going to say good morning?” Tauriel was still looking at them, but there was no irritation in her eyes, just perhaps a bit of amusement. 

“Ah, yes, uh, good morning everyone.” Bard stumbled over his greeting. “Tauriel. Thank you for looking after my children last night. I-” 

“It was my pleasure.” Tauriel interrupted before Bard had to explain his drunken state in front of his children. Bard silently thanked her for this. “We had lots of fun, didn't we?” 

There were lots of noises of agreement from all three children and Bard felt relieved that Tauriel seemed to have had a genuinely good time watching his children. After all, she was a captain of the guard, not a babysitter and he had felt a bit guilty for dumping his responsibility on her last night. 

“Now that we're all here why don't we go have breakfast?” Tauriel stood up, finally finished braiding Sigrid's hair. Everyone filed out of the tent and Thranduil led them to a large tent that sat closer to Dale with rows of tables inside that were laden with food. They all had their fill of fruits and bread and some particularly good elvish tea before they parted ways for the afternoon. Tauriel hugged the children and left to gather a patrol and Thranduil and Bard walked them back down the streets to Bard's home. 

“Thranduil and I are going to get started on plans for reconstruction. Behave yourselves, alright?”

“Yes, da.” Came the unanimous answer. Bard kissed them all on the tops of their heads and sent them inside to work on their studies, but Tilda slipped past him and ran to hug Thranduil. “Bye, da.” Thranduil looked at Bard incredulously, but bent to kiss her head nonetheless and satisfied she went inside. 

“Da....?” Thranduil asked as they walked away. 

“Don't let her fool you. She's smarter than she acts.” Bard warned. “She's used that trick before to to try set me up with everyone from the mild maid to the fish mongerer.” 

Thranduil chuckled. “Well the joke's on her. The setting up has already been done.”

“Well I think she's trying to see that it stays that way.”

“I rather hope it does.” Thranduil smiled and sneaked a quick peck on Bard's cheek. 

“Yeah, me too.” He grazed Thranduil's back before dropping his hand back to his side. 

They climbed the highest tower in Dale and surveyed the city from above. “The walls facing Erebor will all need to be rebuilt.” Thranduil pointed at the heavily damaged outer walls. “And all the structures will need to be reinforced. With my masons it shouldn't prove a hard task. We should be done just as spring comes into full bloom in a few weeks and the snows are gone for good. 

~ ~ ~ 

The next few weeks passed far too quickly for Bard's liking. Every morning he got up and kissed his children goodbye and met Thranduil outside the village and together they began the day's work. Thranduil had a whole host of elves to help, but Bard was surprised by his willingness to get his own hands dirty. He worked right alongside elves and men clearing debris and rebuilding crumbled walls. By the end of the day he was usually covered in dust and mortar which Bard had to gently help him remove before it set. 

After they had cleaned up they ate dinner, sometimes together and sometimes separately, alternating who was a guest to whose abode. The children had grown quite fond of Thranduil and were always pleased when he graced their dinner table. Thranduil was growing attached to them as well and Bard could see in the way Thranduil began to drop his barriers and in the ease with which he smiled at their stories. Thranduil would never be a vulnerable man. Perhaps he would let it peek out now and then, but it simply wasn't who he was. Nonetheless Bard began to see that he was indeed kind and nurturing. 

Every night after dinner regardless of where they'd eaten it, Bard visited Thranduil in his tent. He would have invited Thranduil over on occasion, but the one time he had Tilda had sat in the corner making googly eyes at them while they played chess. So Bard trudged over to the elf-village instead. Not that he minded. It was much more peaceful than his own home and there was usually beautiful music being played in a number of the tents that just added to the magical elvish ambiance. 

Once he was seated in Thranduil's tent with a full glass of wine (Bard would have declined, but Thranduil insisted that a glass of wine every night was good for him) they picked something relaxing to do for the night. Sometimes they played board games (mostly strange elvish ones that Thranduil had brought with him) or sometimes Thranduil would give Bard lessons in reading elvish. He wasn't very much good at it, but he was coming along steadily. Other times when Thranduil was in a good mood and had a glass or two of wine in him Bard would ask him to tell the ancient history of Middle-earth, He would always listen intently when Thranduil told the tales of old, some of which Thranduil had been a first-hand witness to. It always made Bard feel very small listening to Thranduil's stories. It made him realize how very few years he had been on this Earth compared to Thranduil and how few years he had left in comparison and he always acted a bit awkward towards him after the story was over. In these moments Thranduil seemed to Bard this grand untouchable majesty and Bard thought himself incomparably insignificant next to him like he was a a bug in the presence of a sunrise. 

Thranduil always noticed that Bard got uncharacteristically quiet after he had finished his stories. His Dragonslayer was not a shy man and Thranduil hated how he wouldn't make eye contact with him and when he did it was full of sadness and something bitter. “Dammit, Bard, this is why I don't like to talk about these things.” 

Bard said nothing. He didn't know what to say. While he felt incredibly lucky and happy to have this relationship with Thranduil he couldn't deny the strangeness of being in love with an immortal and the complications it had that he didn't like to dwell on. 

“Bard.” Thranduil coaxed, sliding off of his chair and kneeling down in front of Bard. “Look at me.” 

“I'd rather not.” 

Thranduil brought a hand up to lift Bard chin. “Do I make you so sad, Bard?”

“No, you do not. Only the thought that I will one day lose you does.”

“My dear Bard, I rather thought that this was a permanent arrangement.” Thranduil struggled to hide his hurt behind a blank mask.

Bard touched Thranduil's cheek gently and offered him a brief glimpse of a smile. “That's not what I am referring to.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “One day I will die, Thranduil. And you will live on. Mortality never bothered me until I met you, who will never have to taste its bite.” 

Thranduil rose and sat down next to Bard, but said nothing. He felt guilt at what Bard had said and also pain at the thought that however permanent he resolved this relationship between them to be that it would end regardless. Bard too felt the unfamiliar sting of hopelessness and he had begun to cry. Thranduil held him and not having any words to comfort him began to sing softly in Elvish. Bard quieted, sobs turning to sniffling, and then to quiet as he rested his head on Thranduil's chest and felt the hum of his words. 

They eventually fell asleep on the lounge, tangled in each others arms. As they passed through the veil of sleep they each thought that they heard a faint voice on the wind, which swirled gently around the tent, comforting them. They each thought it was only a dream and never told the other, though they felt peace at their situation forever afterwards and had a sense in their hearts that the world would not part them. 

~ ~ ~ 

Barely a week later Bard and Thranduil put the finishing touches on the outer wall marking the end of the renovation of Dale. “I couldn't have done this without you, you know.” Bard said as he helped Thranduil wash the mortar off his hands. 

“You are most welcome, Bard, Lord of Dale.” 

Bard chuckled. “Well not yet. Officially anyways.” 

“Hmpf.” Thranduil snarked, smirking to himself.

“What was that for? Are you making fun of me?” Bard pretended to be mildly offended.

“Not at all, dear friend.” Thranduil's face returned to an even expression as he changed the subject. “I was thinking...how would your family like to come to Mirkwood for a while? We've labored so much here and you've never seen my kingdom properly anyways. It's at it's peak in the springtime.” 

“That actually sounds nice.” It had truly been a harsh winter and his children had been through so much. They deserved a vacation. And Bard was intrigued to see Thranduil's kingdom having only ever been to the back entrance before. 

“It's settled then. We'll leave in the morning.” Thranduil looked very pleased as he finished drying his hands. 

“I guess I had better go pack then or we'll be up all night...” Bard turned to leave the tent, but Thranduil pulled him back into a forceful kiss. Bard gave in easily to Thranduil's seeking tongue and he was soon moaning and pressing himself against Thranduil. Suddenly, Thranduil stopped and stepped back almost causing Bard to fall forward. 

“What was that for!?” Bard spat irritably. 

“Just a taste of what you'll get once we're in the privacy of my kingdom.” 

Bard glared at Thranduil who couldn't quite hide his amusement. “You'll pay for this.” Bard promised, which only earned him a wider grin from Thranduil. 

“Oh, don't be mad.” Thranduil closed the distance between them again and pressed a much more gentle kiss to Bard's lips. “Goodnight, Dragonslayer.” 

Bard felt his irritation melting away at Thranduil's kiss. How could he stay mad at something so beautiful? “Goodnight, Elf.” He turned away to his house where as he had predicted it took all night to get everyone packed. 

Come morning, Bard had bags under his eyes and he was a good deal grumpier that he had been last night. Thankfully Thranduil had sent some elves to load up a cart for them so Bard could down several cups of coffee in an attempt to feel human again. The trip to Mirkwood was quick and painless. It took only a few days of easy travel along the Running River and into the forest. Bard rode astride his horse up front alongside Thranduil on his elk while his children rode in one of the wagons driven by Feren. Thranduil had been concerned about the spiders, but they encountered no problems with them and arrived at the halls of Mirkwood safely. 

The children spent their first day in Mirkwood exploring and making friends with the elves. Bain spent the day in the armory with Tauriel who showed him how the weapons were crafted while Sigrid went down to the stable to learn about elvish husbandry. Tilda refused to leave Thranduil's side and he ended up carrying her through the halls until she fell asleep and and had to be put to bed early. It was close to evening when Thranduil sent for Bard, who had decided to take a nap in his own chambers. 

“The king has asked for you, Lord Bard.” It was Feren, who had appeared in the doorway. 

Bard rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Where is he?” 

“In his quarters. I will show you the way if you would like.” 

Bard thanked him and rolled out of bed and shuffled along the passageways until they reached a large wooden door in a rather out of the way hall. Bard knocked. 

“Come in.” 

He pushed open the door to see a huge room. It appeared to be a bedroom, but he could glimpse a few doorways that led to other adjoining spaces. The furnishings were luxurious and it was certainly Thranduil's bedroom, but for all it's flair it was practical: a bed, several dressers, and a sitting couch. Thranduil was standing in front of one of the open dressers. 

“You asked to see me?”

“Yes. I was afraid if I didn't have someone wake you, you would sleep right through the party.” Thranduil turned towards him.

“What party?”

“Oh, Bard...did you really think there wouldn't be a party for my esteemed guest?”

“You just wanted an excuse to have one, didn't you?” 

“You insult my hospitality!” Thranduil sounded offended, but his smirk confirmed Bard's accusation.  
Bard closed the distance between them and silenced him with a kiss. 

“Take off your clothes.” Thranduil commanded. 

“Pardon? I mean not that I'm complaining, but you could be a bit more tactful about it...”

“No, Bard, so you can dress. For the party.”

“Oh.” Bard felt a little embarrassed, but proceeded to strip while Thranduil pulled a robe from the dresser. When Thranduil turned back around Bard was completely naked and he almost dropped the robe in surprise.

“Something wrong?” Bard taunted.

“Nothing is wrong. I just hadn't expected you to take off all of your clothes.” Thranduil gathered himself, though he could not stop staring. “Here. Put this on.” He handed Bard an emerald green and very shiny floor length robe. 

“I'm not wearing this!”

“What's wrong with it?”

“Well, it's very...shiny to start.”

“Bard, this is a party. You ought to dress the part.” 

Bard was not over pleased, but figured there was no point in arguing over it so he laid the robe across the bed and started to undo the toggles with a sigh. 

“Let me help you.” Thranduil strode over when he saw that Bard was having difficulty with the intricate laces of the robe. He undid them easily and slipped the robe around Bard's shoulders. He leaned over Bard's shoulder and fasted the top toggles nipping at Bard's ear as he did so. Bard moaned softly and threw his head back for Thranduil to bite at his neck. Thranduil took his time biting and kissing every inch of Bard's neck before stepping in front of Bard to fasten the rest of the robe. Bard parted it slightly to reveal his very erect cock which Thranduil took in his hand and began to stroke. Bard groaned as his knees gave way and he fell forward to lean on Thranduil, thrusting openly into his hand. Thranduil grabbed Bard's ass with his free hand and held him steady as he quickened his strokes. Then he leaned into Bard's ear and began to mumble in elvish. Bard had no idea what he was saying, but he felt a hot jolt run through his body at the words. 

“Thranduil...oh..I'm so close.” 

At the words Thranduil stopped stroking and kneeled. “It wouldn't do to mess up my good robe, now would it?” 

Bard watched as his cock disappeared into Thranduil's mouth and felt the wet heat close around him.

“Oh fuck...”

Thranduil drew his mouth back and forth along Bard's cock a few times before the man cried out and shuddered into his mouth. Thranduil swallowed and stood, kissing Bard. “And now we're going to be late.” 

Bard was too out of breath to reply, but he let Thranduil finish helping him dress and splashed cold water on his face to try to get the flush out of his cheeks before Thranduil dragged him out of the room and down the pathways to a great hall. 

The hall was filled with long tables and decorative tapestries and elvish artifacts. The tables to the side were piled high with food buffet style and many elves were already sitting at the long tables conversing and laughing. When Thranduil and Bard walked in they all stood and nodded their heads in respect as they made their way to the front of the room where a table faced the rest of the room. Thranduil took his place in front of the tallest chair in the middle of the table and the elves sat. 

“This feast is to honor our guest, Lord Bard of Dale, soon to be King of Dale. His alliance in our recent battle was invaluable and since he has proven to be both an ally and a friend. To Bard.” Thranduil raised a glass in Bard's direction and all the elves did the same. “To Lord Bard.” They echoed. 

“Thank you.” Bard said hoping he wouldn't have to make a speech, but the elves seemed to accept his thanks and went on with their festivities. 

Thranduil sensed his nervousness and quickly fetched him a glass of wine and a plate of food which Bard gratefully accepted. They ate in silence listening to the conversations of the elves around them, mostly those of the elves in Thranduil's court who were seated at the table with them. Before long many of the elves had left to visit other tables or had gone to dance and sing around a group of elves in the corner who were playing music and Thranduil and Bard were left alone at the front table. 

“Looks like a successful party. Everyone seems to be having a good time.” 

“Everyone except you.” Thranduil looked at Bard.

“I'm having a great time.” Bard tried not to make his smile look forced, but Thranduil was having none of it. 

“Don't lie to me, Bard. I'm not a fool. What say you we take some wine and continue this party in private instead?”

Bard sighed in relief. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.” 

They slipped quietly out of the hall and back up to Thranduil's quarters. Settled comfortably on the couch with glasses of wine, they stared up at the stars through an opening in the ceiling of the room. 

“I thought your kingdom was underground?” 

“It is. But there are several places that were built close enough to the surface to have these openings. They can be sealed of course, but mostly they're kept open so the stars can be seen.” 

“I don't know much of the stars, but I've heard that elves are experts.”

Thranduil chuckled softly. “I know some of their lore. Would you like me to teach you?” 

Bard hummed a yes and settled against Thranduil as he pointed out the stars that were visible and explained each one's name and story if there was one. Bard couldn't help sneaking looks at Thranduil as he spoke. With the light of the stars shining down on him he looked completely ethereal and very beautiful. Bard raised a hand to turn Thranduil's chin towards him and ignoring the surprised expression he kissed him. Thranduil braced for a moment (he wasn't overfond of being interrupted in the middle of explaining something), but he couldn't resist the feel of Bard's lips against his and he deepened the kiss quickly, pushing into Bard's mouth with his tongue. Thranduil pushed Bard so he was laying down on the couch and hovered over him, teasing with small bites to Bard's neck and exposed chest. Bard groaned and wrapped his leg around Thranduil's thigh and yanked him down so they were pressed closer together. Thranduil rubbed against Bard causing both of them to moan and press against the other harder. 

“Thranduil, I've had enough of this robe.” Bard manged to get out between breaths, though he was still thrusting against the elf. Thranduil made quick work of undoing all the intricate laces and threw it open exposing Bard's naked body which he began ravishing with his tongue. Bard whimpered and threw his head back, arching his body upwards. Thranduil worked his way down Bard's torso, finally reaching his hard length and licked at the sensitive skin of his upper thigh. Bard was breathing very heavily, but he reached down and pulled Thranduil's chin up to look at him. “I'd like you to have me...if you'd be willing.” 

Thranduil paused. “Are you sure? Have you ever...?” 

“No.” Bard answered honestly. “But I am sure. I love you, Thranduil.”

Thranduil felt butterflies fill his stomach. Of course Bard loved him, he knew that, but they had never actually said the words. Thranduil was too closed off and Bard too proud, but now under the stars it seemed so natural that Thranduil wondered why they hadn't said it before. “I love you too, Dragonslayer.” Thranduil couldn't help but throw in that little quip with a smirk. 

“Then fill me, Elf-king.” Bard retorted, spreading his legs. 

Thranduil stood and lifted Bard from the couch, eliciting a very surprised noise from the man, and then dropped him on the bed. Thranduil disrobed as Bard watched appreciatively and then the elf crawled atop Bard and began kissing him again. Their erections rubbed together and both of them moaned into the kiss and pressed their bodies close to each other. Thranduil braced himself on one arm so he could reach down with the other one and stroke at Bard's puckered opening. He gently began to push in, but when he was met with resistance he quickly stopped and looked at Bard with sudden realization. “I think we'll need a lubricant.” Bard almost laughed. “Yes, that might not be a bad idea. Thranduil, have you never done this either?” 

“No. But it can't be much different...” Thranduil sounded confident, but Bard thought he looked a little anxious. 

“I suppose not.” Bard tried to sound reassuring. “But we will need something to ease it. Do you have anything we can use?” 

Thranduil thought for a second before getting up and searching through a drawer and pulling out a vial. “It's a natural oil. I use it for my skin...I think it might work.” 

Bard took it from him and tipped a bit onto his finger, rubbing it around. “This should be fine.” He reached a hand out to pull Thranduil back to bed. Thranduil lay next to him and Bard started to kiss his neck and rub circles on Thranduil's back, trying to ease his nerves. Thranduil lifted his chin to expose more of his neck and Bard added in small bites, making his way down Thranduil's chest as his hand slid down to grab his length. Thranduil pressed into Bard's hand and moaned when Bard began stroking him. He whined when Bard stopped suddenly, but he soon resumed, hand now slicked with oil and Thranduil threw his head back onto the pillows in pleasure. Bard continued until Thranduil was completely slick and swollen in Bard's grasp. “Would you help me now?” 

Thranduil nodded and sat up, secretly relieved at the break since he would not have lasted long had Bard continued. He slicked his own fingers with oil and rubbed circles around Bard's entrance with one hand while the other toyed with his cock, gently swirling his thumb around the tip. “I'm ready.” Bard moaned and Thranduil slowly pressed a finger against his entrance until it slid it and he paused, watching Bard's face carefully. Bard took a few deep breaths and accustomed to the feeling before nodding to Thranduil to keep going. He inserted another finger and began to pump in and out slowly, still stroking Bard's cock. Bard began to moan and rock his hips back and forth, seeking more. 

“Thranduil...please. I want you inside me.” 

The elf felt his cock pulse at the demand and he gently removed his fingers and positioned himself before Bard. As he pressed in very slowly he bent over to kiss Bard, cupping his face in his hand. They took their time settling into the feeling, but before long Bard was rocking back and forth again and Thranduil couldn't help but begin to pump in and out of his bargeman. Bard rocked up to meet Thranduil's thrusts and they were both moaning loudly, totally immersed in each other. Bard felt Thranduil grow even harder inside of him and he clenched around the hardness with a smirk, knowing that it would make Thranduil tip over into ecstasy. The elf let out a cry as he orgasmed, pulsing inside of Bard, who was still rocking gently. Then Thranduil collapsed on top of Bard and pulled him into a tight embrace. Bard kissed him fervently and Thranduil grabbed Bard's cock in his hand and began to stroke him again, this time faster and more insistently. Bard whined and gasped as Thranduil stroked and it wasn't long before he was spilling over onto Thranduil's hand, his whole body shuddering. 

Thranduil grabbed a cloth from the side of the bed and cleaned them both off before pulling the covers up around them and draping himself around Bard who was still shivering. They were both too spent to speak and words wouldn't have done any justice to what they'd just experienced anyways so they just lay in each others arms until they fell into a blissful sleep.

~ ~ ~ 

A week had passed relaxing in Mirkwood and Bard had rather gotten used to the luxury. Thranduil was more than pleased to spend his days sleeping in with Bard, but in secret he had been planning a surprise for him and knew that the next day he would have to give up sleeping in with his bargeman in favor of setting out early. The morning came quicker than Bard and Thranduil would have wished and this time it was Thranduil who had to drag Bard out of bed. 

“I thought you liked sleeping in. Why do we have to get up so early?” Bard groaned and tried to pull Thranduil back into bed. 

“Because I have a surprise for you.” Thranduil yanked his hand out of Bard's grasp and continued dressing. 

“What surprise?” Bard managed to sit up on the edge of the bed. Thranduil gave him a look. “Really, Bard? Do you know what surprise means?” 

“Apparently it means waking up much earlier than I'd like to.” Thranduil threw a pillow at him.  
“Stop whining and get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast.” 

Bard trudged into the dining hall still rubbing his eyes and plopped down next to Thranduil who had a mug of coffee waiting for him. Bard downed it silently as Thranduil ate his plate of fruit and when Bard was finished Thranduil poured him another cup. “We're going camping.” 

“I thought you invited us here to relax.”

“Camping is relaxing. And the children aren't coming. They're to stay here.”

“Why can't they come?”

“It's too dangerous. The forest is improved, but I don't want to take unnecessary risks.”

Bard rolled his eyes. “Alright. When are we going on this dangerously relaxing camping trip?” 

“Right now.” Thranduil stood and dragged Bard out of his chair who was still clutching his coffee. “My aides already have everything packed for us. I thought it would be good to get an early start.” 

They walked down the halls to the front doors where Thranduil's elk and a tall horse were laden with provisions and waiting for them, held by two elves. The elves handed over the reins and Bard reluctantly gave up his coffee and mounted the horse. They rode for a few hours along the elvish path before Thranduil cut into the woods. 

“Is this safe?” Bard called behind him as he followed the elk's lead. 

“Yes, perfectly. Just because you cannot see it, it does not mean there isn't a path.” 

Bard had no idea what that meant so he just kept quiet and kept riding. Eventually the sun began to go down and they stopped for the night, making a small campfire in a clearing and setting up blankets to sleep on. They had dinner and tea before laying back on the blankets together and watching the sky grow darker and the stars grow clearer. 

“Is this not relaxing?” 

“Aye.” Bard was already growing sleepy and he laid his head down on Thranduil's chest. “I'm glad you made me come.” Thranduil placed a kiss on the top of his head and he could almost feel the smirk, but he was too tired and comfortable to care. 

The next morning they started up again very early. It was still dark out when Thranduil woke Bard and began to pack the animals. Bard had begun to get a bit concerned about the early starts; it was rather out of character for Thranduil, but he trusted the elf so he tried not to worry about it as he stretched and mounted his horse. They rode at a faster pace than the previous day though and they soon reached the edge of the woods. Laid out before them across a field was the city of Dale. Bard halted in shock. 

“Thranduil! What are we doing in Dale? Did you go and get us lost?!” 

Thranduil turned around with an innocent look on his face. “Well as long as we're here we might as well stop by.” 

Bard agreed it would seem rude to be so close and not stop in given that he was supposed to be Lord here. They crossed the field and came up to the main gates. It was entirely silent within the walls and for a moment Bard panicked, thinking something had happened in his absence, but then they entered the gates and Bard was assailed with cheers from his people, who were lined up on each side of the street. Decorative lanterns and banners hung from every available spot and a troupe played a fanfare in the distance. Bard looked at Thranduil, desperately trying to figure out what was happening. Thranduil smiled warmly at him. “Go on. They're waiting for their king.” Bard urged his horse forward along the street and finally came to the steps of the Lord's Hall where he saw that his children were waiting for him in front of the throne that Thranduil had given him. He began to realize that this was not a happenstance celebration and that Thranduil had most definitely been involved. His children ran up to him as he dismounted and Tilda grabbed his hand and led him to the top of the steps. The crowd cheered louder chanting his name. Tilda tugged at his arm. “Da, you're supposed to wave.” She whispered. Bard reluctantly raised his hand and gave a half-hearted wave that felt very unnatural. Then suddenly Thranduil appeared from the crowd and made his way up the steps. “Thranduil, what the hell?!” Bard hissed at him as discretely as he could manage. 

“My dear Bard, I knew if I didn't take this into my own hands it was never going to happen. Welcome to your coronation ceremony.” 

Bain picked up a cushion atop which a golden crown lay, crafted in the shape of a snaking dragon with rubies for eyes. Thranduil turned to face the crowd. “People of Laketown, it is tradition for the previous king to bestow his crown upon the new ruler, but seeing as this is a unique situation in which we have neither I hope that you will accept my taking on that role as a show of my good will and allegiance.” Everyone cheered. Unbeknownst to Bard, Thranduil had planned out this entire ceremony in secret while he was in Dale and the people were extremely fond of him. However, Thranduil had impeccable manners and it was still polite to gain permission. He picked up the crown from the pillow Bain was holding and held it over Bard's head. “May I present to you Bard, King of Dale.” He lowered the crown as Bard looked him in the eye, all irritation and worry wiped away. Bard thought how incredibly thoughtful it was for Thranduil to have put this all together and in a moment of either bravery or lack of inhibition he grabbed Thranduil's face and pulled him in for a kiss. 

“Thank you.” He said to a very red-faced Thranduil when he broke away. 

“You are welcome, King of Dale. I hope your reign sees the happiest of days.” Bard grinned at Thranduil, finally as one king to another. 

“Something tells me that it will.”


End file.
